


Distraction

by PoetatoTrashbrown



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Could be one shots, Drinking, Drinking Games, Eventual Smut, Everyone is age of majority, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Masturbation, My First Fanfic, Poe is a bro
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-01
Updated: 2016-10-01
Packaged: 2018-08-12 08:20:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7927543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoetatoTrashbrown/pseuds/PoetatoTrashbrown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fire renders your apartment uninhabitable for a few weeks-- good thing you got reassigned to bunk with the best pilot in the galaxy. </p><p> </p><p>Pretty much TFA has turned me into Poe Dameron trash + having awkward chemistry with a guy that could be Poe's younger brother for the past three years. Immortalized in a fan fic and I really don't care what anyone else thinks...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Distraction

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Kehlani--Distraction and Hozier-- From Eden

                The overhead page went off in the medbay. Most of the medical staff quarters were deemed unfit for entry after a shorted wire started a fire in one of the storage rooms. Consequently, temporary housing assignments were going to be distributed in the dining commons. You pulled off your exam gloves and mask, tossed them in the trash, and washed your hands.

                “Oh boy,” you say under your breath in response to the intercom with a little smile. All you have in your quarters are your academy-issued uniforms, sleepers, duffle, plus a few off duty pieces. That’s all the resistance allowed you to bring to the base for your assignment. It wasn’t a lot, but this life came with a job working for the resistance.

                “You know, I heard the only damage they found was just flooding from the sprinkler system,” your patient says and brings you back into the present. “They don’t want you going back when it’s damp and disgusting in there. That’s all.”

                “Who says?”

                “The staff on damage assessment,” he says with a brief pause. “You know how that is right, doc? They don’t want to say too much too soon. Usually, it winds up kicking them in the butt.” His smile is reassuring.

                “Yeah, you got a point there. Anyway, would it be saying too much too soon if I told you all of your vitals and tests are normal and negative?”

                “Thanks, doc! And I hope everything works out with you and your living situation, although I’m sure you’ll be fine," he warmly extends his hand and the both of you shake hands goodbye. He gathers his pilot jacket and heads for the door.

                “Just be sure to check out with the front desk and schedule your yearly appointment,” you holler as he leaves.

                Pushing your palms into your eyes and extending your back, you let out a groan of frustration and go into post-patient cruise control of authorizing and organizing data logs.

                The afternoon’s rhythm of straightening, sterilizing, and debriefing was a chore, but it meant you were done for the day. However, this time, the hassle of settling into a new temporary bunk was waiting for you wherever it was.  

                You check the clinic-issued holo in to the nurses who seem to be giddy about something. Who could be giddy about temporary bunk reassignments?

                “Did I miss anything? I just heard the page when I was with my patient,” you say with the part-worried, part-hopeful face you’ve nailed being the newest clinician on the base.

                “Nothing until dinner I’m guessing,” says one of the nurses, barely looking up from her holo.

                “That’s in two hours,” you say in a long, drawn-out response as you sort through data files on your tablet, flipping each one open quickly to remind you of each case. Amid the fussing, you feel a nudge on your elbow and look over to find your best friend, Larana, with her fists pressed into her tunic pockets and an ear-to-ear smile on her face.

                “Whoa there, smiles,” you say jokingly. “You look amazingly chipper for having your living quarters almost burned down.”

                “Almost—but it didn’t. So, it’s not,” she says with a cheeky wink. ”The living quarters aren’t burned down,” she says with the smile still plastered on her face.

                “What did they put in your blue milk?” you ask. She’s hardly ever this energetic, especially in the early afternoon.

                “There’s a buzz in the housing department saying they’re going to try to double book rooms,” she says, “according to rank.” She’s lifting an eyebrow and that means she’s in the mood for making trouble. She’s always been the type to cross the line and still be a self-proclaimed classy lady.

                “Okay, makes sense,” you reply. Most of the officer’s quarters had sofa beds and more space, which usually doubled as a makeshift war room. If they were going to double book, it would be the pilots’ quarters.

                “And they’re doing it coed,” she says mischievously, instigating something in her voice, as she usually does.

                “That sounds terrible," you respond as you roll your eyes. You make your way past a few patients to a sink where you wash your hands and take down your hair.

                “No, it sounds fun! It sounds amazing,” she says as she presses her fists into her tunic further, as if she is fighting herself to stay out of trouble.

\---

                “Dr. (L/N)! Shouldn’t you be in pre-surgery?!” Your stomach drops to the sound of an unfamiliar man’s authoritative voice from a distance behind you. You quickly think through your schedule. You weren’t scheduled for after-hours and no one scheduled surgeries during dinner. You head perks up from your plate and turns to find a man of average height and athletic build, but the way he walked toward you made sure the room knew he was there. He was wearing an orange base-issued flight uniform unzipped to the waist, and flanked by his colleagues and a rolling astromech droid, whose head bopped side-to-side. As he approached, you made out his thick dark hair and eyes, as well as his strong cheekbone and jawline laced with a few scars and stubble.

                “I’m just joking,” he laughs giving you a firm pat on the shoulder.

                You look at him confused. “Sorry, do I know you?” you say turning in your seat. He’s an attractive guy, but it’s hard for anyone to make you lose your words. You notice his toned chest under the stretched fabric of his dirty white shirt. The rest of the pilots disappear into the mix of people in the dining commons.

                “Oh no, I’m Poe. Poe Dameron. Commander Dameron to these guys.” He gestures to the squad he’s entered the commons with and slides into the chair next to you. “But, since you’re my roommate for the new couple of weeks, I’m just Poe. You can call me Poe.”

                “I’m (Y/N). Nice to meet you,” you say as you shake his callused hands. The droid takes what might be a quick scan of you and lets out a whirl that you can only make out to be a sign of approval. “How do you know we’re roommates and how did you know my name?” you say with a smile.

                “Well,” he lifts his eyebrows and looks around playfully scanning the dining commons, "I had to sign off on the evacuation team moving your stuff into my suite. Secondly, you’re the only one in a doctor’s uniform that I don’t know.” He pauses and lets out a sigh. “The squadron and I have gotten into enough trouble to get to know all of the doctors here, unfortunately. So yeah, I assumed the new med recruit would be you.” He grins and playfully pats your shoulder, “Well, I won’t keep you. It’s probably been a long day for everyone, especially on the medical team. I’ll see you in the quarters, yeah?”

                “Yeah, sounds good. It was nice to meet you, Poe.”

                “It was nice meeting you, (Y/N). And sorry about the heart attack earlier.” Definitely a heart attack or something like that you tell yourself.

                Your best friend leans across the table towards you and places her face so close to yours, “What the hell was that?!”

                “What was what?”

                “All the hearts in your eyes," she teases with a dopey, sarcastic smile as the mass of orange and white suits moves in the mess of people.

                “What about all the hearts in _your_ eyes? Geez, Lara. I’m not trying to sleep with every guy I run into unlike a girl I know," you tease back.

                “Okay, okay. But don’t tell me you wouldn’t mind being more than roommates-- sharing more than room.”

                “That’s exactly it, though. Being roommates and professionals leaves no space to even entertain that thought," to you, business is business. Crushes, attractions, dating had no place in the workplace.

                “You guys are _temporary_ roommates," She says taking a swig of water and spearing a few vegetables on her fork.

                “You need to eat because you just keep talking crazy, hun.”

                You got through dinner with your best friend while catching up on the happenings of the day. Larana was able to stay in her studio apartment since it wasn’t damaged by the fire, but not coded for two people. You tried to keep it at that— dodging questions about the new housing situation only a handful of times. Deep down inside you knew this was going to make for a very interesting situation. Poe was a breath of fresh air. Something different from the over-analytical types you met in school. The way the commander carried himself demonstrated his attention to detail and relaxed sense of humor. You hadn’t traded too many words with him, but there was something very intriguing about him. In the past, men like that were tempting and dangerous—in all aspects of the words.

 --- 

                You were going to be bunking in a commander’s quarters. Naturally, they were larger than a doctor’s suite since they stored their alternate flight gear in their room and held adhoc meetings.

                You approached your new housing unit in the squadron sector. It had definitely seen better days compared to the aseptic look of the health science housing sector. the door to your accommodations slid open— a one bedroom apartment without a kitchen. The living room was around the size of your studio apartment. It smelled like a mix of resistance hangar, engine grease, and leather. Up ahead was a desk and a sofa mattress with a topper against the left hand wall. On the opposite side was a refresher and a bedroom, large enough for a bed and a locker.  Your belongings sat at the foot of the fold out in a moving box.

                Only two or three weeks, you thought to yourself, and you and Poe would be on separate ends of the base and life will be back to normal.

                Your hand pressed against the mattress and grazed over the scruffy, thick bed sheets. It still beat what they had in the academy. 

                After you take a shower and get dressed in an old pair of med academy dorm wear, you sat in the broken-in desk chair and started working on some patient cases. The faded blue and grey academy pajamas made you look young and feel nostalgic. A small, girlish grin spread over your face as you tied up your hair.

                Did you really come off as a no-nonsense type? That wouldn’t be a wrong assumption. There was a time and place for it and you convinced yourself you wouldn't screw your first job out of school by screwing your co-worker. The night was progressing and you still had to work. No matter how invested you were in your patients, you still couldn't manage to get that pilot out of your head.

                Dameron, huh? The way he was cool and confident while being a high performing individual intrigued you. You wanted to know more. You heard of him a few times since you onboarded at D’Qar. You heard he was one of the most brilliant pilots and it seemed like he was equally admired by all who knew him. He reminded you of how life was in the health science academy—before you were tasked with treating actual patients. Life was all business, but at the same time not quite.  Functioning on that wavelength was the most difficult. Maintaining an air of balanced approachability with your colleagues and respectability wasn’t ever your strong suit. You were either on your A-game or a wreck. Being sharp and quick was a rare occurrence when you let your guard down. It was all or nothing for you and it almost seemed like Dameron was almost rubbing it in your face. Seemed like a fun guy, but still admired and respected by his entire team. And that little droid. If a droid could adore its master, that ball did.

                A few hours passed as you flipped between patient files and thoughts of the pilot at the desk. Next thing you knew, you were in and out of sleep and the air locks unhinged. Startled, you jolted from your nap and shot your eyes towards the door.

                “Hey” he said softly, “sorry I woke you up”. His eyebrows furrowed apologetically. he made his way into the living room as his astromech whizzed past to the charging port.

                “Hi, there,” you respond, wiping your tired eyes and the drool from your face.

                “You had a good evening? You found everything you needed around here?" as he took off his jacket and boots.

                “Yeah, just unpacked and been doing this…,” you gesture to your holodeck, ”settled in pretty quick”

                “Wow, you made that?” he takes a look the holo from across the room. Your first thought is how expressive his eyes are. They widen in amazement and then squint as he approaches. The next thing you notice is how good he smells; a mix of smoke, dust, and the woods.

                “That’s some gnarly stuff-- all those actuators, machined parts. So intricate, you really have a gift (Y/N). Someone’s gotta take care of that. I couldn’t.”

                “Thanks, means a lot coming from you. You're not bad at tinkering yourself, commander,” you propped yourself up and ran your finger over the commander insignia on the jacket in his hands. He cracked a tired half-smile.

                You extended your back and let out a yawn as Poe disappeared into the refresher. Clothes and a belt buckle dropped to the floor.

                The sonic water sputtered on and soon water vapor billowed out of the refresher door your roommate left open from habit. You made way to your bed, lazily kicked off your slippers, pulled away the sheets, and curled into bed for well-deserved rest.

                Faintly, between wakefulness and sleep, the soothing sound of water stops and towels rustle. “Hey, kiddo”, you hear from the refresher. BB-8 makes a few soft beeps. “Oh, sorry,” you hear your roommate whisper. BB-8’s low whirls and beeps sound disappointed. “I know, bud. I’ll try again tomorrow."

                That’s how things went on for a few days. Like a bachelor, Poe continued to treat the apartment like a locker room and you treated it like a living quarters shared with a coworker. Occasionally, the two of you would hit up the dining commons together, with the pilots, or some of the medical team. Evenings together were sparse since Poe was maintaining his x-wing while you were catching up on patient documents. The two of you were true professionals. Strictly professional was something you were good at, at least you thought you were.


	2. Nobody's Better

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A night out... what could go wrong?  
> Inspired by Nobody's Better by Z and Fetty Wap... because Fetty Wap... AND Sauceallonmeh by Aha Gazelle... because I feel Poe would be into that.

     Two large hands planted themselves firmly around you. “Hey there,” a low voice just inches from your right ear startles you. “Whatcha working on?” You turn in your chair immediately. It’s Poe Dameron, and he smelled like smoke and fuel. Why like this and why here, in the prosthetics lab?

     You shoot a sarcastic, stone-cold side eye. “Working,” your eyes widen and thank the Makers you were wearing an N-87 mask or else Poe would have seen you blush. “What are you doing?”

     “Me? Just judging. Judging your work.”

     “What would you know about prosthetics, Commander?”

     “I know a good one when I see one. Like piloting or craftsmanship—you know when you see it.” His eyes squinted and you could feel his breath on your neck. Any closer and his stubble would have stuck to your mask.

     Turning away to the supplies cabinet, you quickly dab the nervous sweat from your forehead and take a few deep breaths. This is okay. You’re okay. His jaw line, cheekbones, tired eyes, hair— are all okay, you tell yourself. You try really hard to keep it cool and calm but it’s not working. Whatever, you think and throw the isolation mask in the trash chute. If you look giddy like a school girl, then it’s okay. If you blow your cover, whatever—men always find out. Always. You tug on your uniform and make your way back out with a small torch and luting wax.

     “Hey!” Larana immediately got your attention from the other side of the room, “Movies and sweets tomorrow right? I’ll bake something.”

     “Lara,” you gesture at her to cut it out and Poe gives her the half smile-and-nod as she makes her way to the linens cabinet and focuses his direction back on you.

    “You’re bringing drinks? Sounds good,” she says winking and pointing at you clearly ignoring your plea to stop embarrassing you as she walks past, “Oh hey, Poe.”

     “Best friends, am I right?” you say apologetically.

     “Sounds like you have plans tomorrow night,” Poe is picking at his calluses again.

     "We usually have a night in during the week just talk and gossip.”

“Gossip, huh?” he looks up cocking an eyebrow, “About anyone particularly?” You blush and shake your head. “Look, we’re almost done with the work week anyway. Some of us are going out tonight to a castle cantina. You can come with if you’re not doing anything,” he says nonchalantly.

     “Sounds like an adventure, I could use an adventure,” you respond with equal calmness.

     “If that’s an adventure for you, (Y/N), I really don’t know if you can hang,” he says with a joking smolder.

     “I can definitely hang if my friends can come with, too,” you didn’t miss a beat. You were not going to go on a date with your roommate—at least not yet.

     “Of course, that sounds great,” he rubs his hands together, possibly a subconscious tic of anticipation. “I’ll let the squadron know some more people are coming. Nothing makes a more united resistance than making a few interdepartmental friendships.”

     “Sounds excellent, Poe,” you return his smile with a wink. Hopefully, that was enough to keep you sinking flirt craft afloat. Settling back into your workbench, you overhear Poe introducing himself to some medical staff and possibly inviting them for tonight. Whatever piloting talent he had was only rivaled with his ability to make friends.

* * *

     “Hey, doc!” Poe waved you down while walking briskly towards you, trying to grab your attention from almost across the dining commons. His smile accentuated the leanness of his face and the muscled cuts in his arms made knots of your stomach. You froze in place. His crisp woven shirt twisted over his torso, outlining the edges of his pecs and lateral abs— it drove you crazy, just like a few dozen women over the past ten years or so. You walked over, consciously trying to keep your stomach from dropping, with a stacked tray in your hands.  
     “Hey, you,” you greeted him as coolly as you could over the buzz of dozens of conversations. You doubt you really came off half as calm as the pilot who happened to just swagger into the room a moment ago.  
     Poe looks at your tray with surprise, “I thought we were getting out for dinner, (Y/N).”  
     “I don’t know how this works. I’m used to going out consisting of alcohol and junk food,” tossing your hips away from him, propping the tray against your body. “Don’t you have to stay in shape too? Me being a doctor and you being a commander,” as you place a piece of fruit in your mouth, hoping it looks as seductive as you think.  
     He gently rolls his eyes, “That’s cute. You know that, Y/N?”  
     “What?”  
     “You don’t just let it go for a bit? Just indulge for tonight? For Maker’s sake, let’s get out of here,” he puts his arm around your shoulders as you walk out of the dining commons and towards the hangars nearby.

* * *

     It had been a while since you had been on the tarmac at sunset. You were usually making your way home or hurrying off to your next assignment. Breaking away from all of that and being in this moment felt refreshing. The warm air, buzzing insects, the energy of the people around you made you feel alive and a part of something bigger. An unfamiliar swell of purpose filled your chest. Something about this instance, after a full day of work, gave you a second wind; you were ready for whatever the night brought. The setting sun passed through your deep amber button up, showing off your shape— which you thought was pretty average, the product of taking the longer way home and cleaner eating. Your meals were less sporadic and more balanced once you moved from school to the base.

     You spot a group of pilots and medical personnel wheeling two kegs and a few bags of snacks into the unmarked resistance transport as a firm nudge snaps you out of your daydream.

     “We may or may not be going to a grimy, sketchy bar”, the commander looks down at you trying to read your face for panic or hesitation. You make a playful worried face as he pulls you into his side. “No big deal though. The owner loves us. The other regulars, not so much,” he says trying to calm your nerves as he lets go of you. It was your first night out with a squadron of pilots. Waiting for the intel team to decipher the new data from the latest recon gave some pilots a few nights off a week.

     “Hey, Dameron!” a pilot running up to the two of you caught Poe’s attention, “We’re about ready to go.”

     "Hey, Snap!” Poe touched his forearm to Snap’s making an x-shape then pulled him in close with one hand and tapped his back with the other. “By the way, Dr. (LN), this is Snap Wexley of Blue Squadron. Snap, this is Dr. (L/N). She’s the new doctor on the base.”

     “(Y/N) is fine, Nice to meet you,” as you go for the handshake.

    “Welcome! Nice meeting you,” he pulled you in by the hand and gave you a big hug.

     “Easy. Ea-sy!” Poe tried to get to break up the wookie hug you were trapped in, “I have to apologize for the behavior of our mascot.”

     You let out a giggle and a polite smile. Doctor or not, you were going to be demure as you could be and see how far this would go. Trying to guide Poe’s eyes, you ran your hands over the behind of your tailored tactical pants. In your periphery, Larana was in a mix of medics and pilots and you made it a point to make your way over there.

     She pushed her way out to you. “Hey, girl!” she exclaimed. With open arms, she ran over and wrapped you up. She was equal parts excitement and inebriation. “I saw that,” her voice was a warm whisper. Her tone was nosy and naughty; you knew exactly what she saw. She postured herself against you the same way the Commander was just moments before.

     A big laugh left your lips, “You’re cute, Lara. Real subtle, too.”

     You continued to see who made it out. Dr. Ando, your co-medic, was hitting his signature dance moves while sipping on a blue drink Joby from physical therapy was pouring. Familiar faces mixed in with strangers. BB-8 was dodging and rolling his way into the transport.

     Corra grabbed you by the arm and placed a drink in your hand, “Jess, this is (Y/N)—she works with me in the medbay.”

     Jess raised her glass, "Thanks for joining the cause.” Her eyes were bright, her hair was a glass-smooth black; both reflected the sun shining through the haze of engine exhaust and the moist evening air.

     “Of course, I’m humbled to be here. The past month has been quite the experience,” as your glasses clink.

     “And this is Lara. She makes really good desserts,” Corra was the resident sweet tooth and had an equally sweet personality. 

     "Is that true? Did you bring anything?” the pilot asked with wide eyes between sips of her cocktail.

     “I didn’t have time,” Larana punctuated her excuse with a bubbly laugh.

     “Poe just told us that we should get off base and some people were gonna kick it tonight and-- ,” you weren’t able to finish your sentence.

     “You’re his roommate?” Jess connected the dots as her eyes widened.

     “Yeah, why?”

     “Nothing, we knew he got doubled with a medic. Just didn’t know who,” she grinned wide. “Hey, Poe!” Jess hollered and got the attention of the brunette doing final checks. She pointed at you. He responded with a thumbs up and an all-business look on his face followed by a gesture to get in the transport. “Get in! Time to go!” she insisted as she pushed you and Corra into the ship.

     As the transport door closed behind you, the hollow clanking of disposable cups, cheers, and music filled the air. You found an empty cup and poured the half-full bottle of wine into it. Off in the distance, Larana was talking to one of the maintenance guys from the medbay she had a thing for. The fact that he knew her name was enough to turn her into a mess. She was not going to let the opportunity and her lack of inhibition go to waste.

     Jess leaned in and yelled over the noise, “Poe’s the designated pilot tonight. If you’re looking for him, he’s in the cockpit.” She nodded her head back to let you know which way to head and made your way through the crowd as you thanked her.

     Three knocks on the doorway behind him and you had his attention. His eyes softened as he turned around.

     “Hey, (Y/N)!” he took a swig of water from his glass, “Looks like you found me.”

     “Jess told me where to look,” you made your way into the cockpit.

     “Nope, no, nope,” Poe shook his head, “none of that in here. I’m all for fun, but just water and coffee allowed in here. There’s a counter where you can—.”

     You tossed the rest of the drink back and continued into the cockpit, “What counter, Poe?” you joked.

     “Nevermind,” he bit his lip and wriggled his eyebrows, “You’re having fun?”

     “Plenty. More than I’ve had since the start of my stay here,” you peer back into the fuselage, “the different departments don’t really get out together do they?”

     “Not really,” Poe continued talking. Through the mess of canvas, leather, and tactical gear, you spotted Dr. Ando introducing his roommate to rest of the team. “The way the shifts are set up in each department means each department gets different times of day off and can’t really get to know each other.”

     “The fire did us some good then,” you say, while picking at the outer seam of your pants.

     “You’re telling me,” the commander punctuates the sentence with a sigh. “So what’s your story, kid?”

     “Who’s the kid, I’m probably not much younger than you,” you sassed.

     “But you just got out of academy.”

     “Yeah, but that’s because I didn’t really know what to do with my life before the doctoral program.”

     “Oh really?” he flips a few switches, leans back, and crosses his legs at his ankles with that half smile that works on you when your guard isn’t up.

     "Yeah, I was a cantina keep and a tutor at a secondary school on Coruscant. Then I got tired of just going through the motions, I needed to do more— felt like I was meant to live for something bigger. Now I’m here hanging out with you.” You gesture around the transport and smile. “How did you wind up here?”

     “Same. Felt like somethings weren’t handled well in the Republic, General Organa invited me to join the Resistance,” the glow left his face. It was a sign to redirect the conversation, maybe leave him alone. The drinks were making you feel a little foolish, but not foolish enough to ask more questions about his past.

     “So the place?” you pipe back up after clearing your throat.

     “Yeah, the place,” Poe rubs his hands together, then against his thighs. His eyes dart between gauges, monitors, and switches, “we should be there in a half hour.”

     Fervent wrapping against the door frame breaks the two of you out of the shared torture of awkward silence. “(L/N)! We need one more for Vessel Run. You down?” Jess smiles wide at you and mouths an apology to her commander.

     “Yeah, but I’m not great at it,” your voice tinted with reservation.

     “That’s okay!” Jess pulls you out of your seat and starts explaining the rules of the drinking game as Snap brushes past you and into the cockpit.

     “You, too, Dameron,” Wexley was not going to let Dameron sit this one out.

     Poe stands confused, “What? I thought you needed one.”

     “Regardless, I’m piloting this craft and you’re going to enjoy yourself” you hear over your shoulder, “When was the last time you actually had a night off?”

* * *

 

     “Hey, cutie,” Lara teased you.  
     “What’s new with you, good-lookin’,” you tease back, playfully flipping a cup from the edge of the table.  
     “So maintenance guy has a name,” she explains as you’re failing, more often than not, to flip this cup upside down, “It’s Missael.”  
     “Oh yeah? That’s how far you got?”  
     “How far did you get in the _cock_ -pit?”  
     “What is it to you?” you joke with a raised eyebrow.  
     “Hey!” Jess yells over the crowd, “You guys ready for Kessel Run?” your eyes dart to the far end of the table. The table is set for a game of 4-on-4 Kessel run. You all make eye contact with Jess. Your collective clapping and yelling are the only sign she needs. As she yells, “Go!” two cups touch the table and touch each other.  
     The games have begun.

* * *

 

  The door on the transport dropped open revealing a castle, strewn with flags and filled with people. A live Huttese band was audible from where you were standing. You couldn’t get more than two steps out from the transport when you realized Poe hadn’t come out with the rest. As you stepped into the shuttle, you spotted BB-8 tying bags of trash closed and Poe throwing them in the trash compactor. You picked up the wrappers and cups next to your feet and crammed them into the small openings in some bags that were already tied.  
  Poe pauses and gently focuses his big brown eyes on you.  
  “Hi,” he says in between tightening knots.  
  “Thanks for inviting me out. If it wasn’t for you, I’d been halfway through a roll of baked sweets and up a few levels in this game I’ve been playing on my holo,” you explain while helping BB-8 with the last bags.  
  “Whoa there. What were you saying earlier about eating better?” Poe pressed his lips together and wrinkled his eye brows in disbelief as the three of you made your way off the ramp and onto the lush grass.  
  “Not that I do that all the time,” the moment you crossed your arms across your stomach you knew you were subconsciously telling him you had something to hide.  
  “Yeah, sure,” he returned your sarcasm. His eyebrows furrowed. “You’re cold,” Poe concluded. Maybe he wasn't so in tune with body language, something health professionals were pretty good at figuring out. Next thing you knew, his jacket was draped over your shoulders— a bit damp from cleaning up and sitting in the transport for a while. The two of you followed BB-8 to the castle and the transport shut behind you.  
  “But—,” you looked up at him. The moon perfectly illuminated his face, in turn, it was framed perfectly in each of his eyes.  
  “Don’t worry about me,” he assures you, “plus, it’s gonna be hotter than Tatooine in there.” You imagine how packed and stuffy it might be in there.  
  The flags caught the moonlight and cracked as the wind ran through them. The wet grass and lake nearby lent itself to scenting the fresh air, calming the familiar bravery that came with a few drinks. You surprisingly made your way up the stairs without any spills or hiccups and into the drinking hall. There were just enough openings in the walls and makeshift windows to let a good amount of air flow through. The room was open and surprisingly spacious, given the number of beings there. The diversity of all of the beings took you aback. You had never seen such an array, all having a good time. It was over-stimulating and almost utopian.  
  Jess got up from her seat in a booth in corner. “Hey there!” she was excited to finally see you two make your way in, “Take a seat”. Poe helped you out of the jacket as you slipped in next to Corra; she was drinking something brown with a fizzy green layer on top and a cut fruit in it. For a girl with a sweet tooth, she liked her liquor with an edge on it.  
  Corra leaned over, “Pretty cute, right? Old world charm?”  
  “Oh yeah, cute and different.”  
  “Cute and different… like your roommate,” she wiggled in her seat and pushed back a loose tendril of her deep ash hair.  
  “Oh please, what is everyone’s deal about him?” you rolled your eyes only to find Poe in your periphery placing his arm behind you on the booth bench.  
  Jess slams a whiskey sour and an old fashioned in front of you and Poe. You barely know this woman, but her face looks like trouble. She pushes her way onto the bench chair while Poe fumbles in his pants pockets for a few credits, “Don’t worry about it, Black Leader.” She awkwardly and mischievously pushes your roommate into your space. “(Y/N),” she strains her voice over the noise, “Poe wants to tell you a joke.”  
  Poe mouths something to her, you can’t see what, and turns back toward you. “So there’s this Twi-lek and she wants to—,” he starts with some hesitation.  
  You interrupted him, “Honestly, Dameron, I’m really drunk.” You paused to take a sip from the rim of your over-filled drink, “and I’m not following anything coming out of your mouth.” This was the truth, but listening on a conversation with Corra and Pava about the cute engineering students at the bar was totally in your wheelhouse—unfortunately, Poe was stuck in the middle of it. One of them approached Jess.  
  “I don’t think she’s the type to make out”, you heard her respond, “but you really should ask her.”  
  Too hazy and hammered, you could only make out his sandy hair, slim build, and doe eyes. He made his way before you with some reservation and offered his hand. “Hi. You’re beautiful,” he said, giving your hand a squeeze, “Your friend says you don’t make out with strangers.”  
  Struggling to look coy, you flutter your eyes. “She’s right. I don’t,” you respond, taking your hand away.  
  “I can respect that,” he says with a smirk and walks back to his group of friends.  
  “He was cute right?” you ask Corra and Jess, Poe still hearing all of this. Your girlfriends smile and nod in agreement. “Good. I’m not that drunk to think just any guy is cute,” you look back at the clean-cut gentleman receiving pats on the back and new leads from his friends.  
  “Hey! What about this guy,” Poe asked jokingly, running his fingers through his hair. You turn and kiss the bicep resting behind your head.  
  “Cute enough,” you shrug, sarcastically unimpressed. “I haven’t filed a complaint with the residential department, yet.”  
  “You’ll be filing a complaint that I’m too cute sooner than you think,” he teased back.  
  “In your dreams, flyboy,” the liquid courage was surging through you and working its magic.  
  It seemed like everyone was having a good time. A round of stiff drinks and gooey appetizers, plus some truth telling, led to cheers and high fives between the two sets of friends. Dr. Ando and Snap were in what seemed to be a very passionate discussion about old-timey republic politics. Some pilots were caught up in an intense dice game.  
  “I love this song,” Jess nudged Poe and stood straight up to join Larana and a few others on the dance floor.  
  A few moments passed until Poe broke the awkward silence. “You like to go out and dance?” Poe asked with a beaming smile.  
  “Once in a while. I mean, I don’t go out to just dance. If I’m asked, then yeah,” you say matter-of-factly.  
  He got up and extended his hand, “Wanna?”  
  You nodded a yes and served a half-smile. Poe expertly guided you to the dancefloor and pulled you close, resting your hand on his chest. His hips matched the way you were letting your body roll to the rumbling bassline. His hands rest on your back and waist, his forehead pressed against yours. If body language was any bit valid this time around, he was saying he wanted more of you. You flipped your hair to one side of your neck and turned around, giving him a clear view from your neck to your cleavage. His stiffening manhood was meeting your bottom to the rhythm of the drums. The sturdy material of his pants were not helping out either. He kept his taut, firm torso pressed against you. His hands naturally rested on the crest of your hips. What a gentleman, you joked to yourself. He groaned, pressing his lips to your head, as you guided his hand up your stomach.  
  The two of you were getting lost in each other’s touches until an argument festered into a fist fight in the far corner of the bar.  
  “We gotta go,” one of the pilots hollered, waving his hands to get your attention. Poe’s hand instinctively went for your arm. You searched around only to spot Jess and grabbed her by her tunic. By the time the three of you made it out, Snap was already firing up the transport to make a mad dash home. After the transport’s coordinates were set for D’Qar, you learned that a few women turned down drinks from a couple of guys. Snap and a mechanic insisted they leave the women alone and it turned into a brawl. One of the women was crying in the corner of the ship about how she got us all kicked out. Larana held her while she kept telling her it was time to go anyways. Lara was a mix of fun and trouble, but always a true friend.  
  Poe handed you a glass of water and took a seat on the bench behind you. He patted the space next to him. “What a night,” he sighed into his hand and took a big drink of water.  
  “Was a good night,” you said as you sat and reached for his neck muscles. You remembered one of your professors telling you touch was soothing especially if someone didn't receive much of it. Your fingers pressed up the back of his neck and into his thick, black hair. “Thanks for letting me come with. This place is beautiful,” you stared at the wall in front of you to keep the conversation cool and calm.  
  He leaned forward and you accepted the invitation to grab his shoulder blades. He looked up at you through his eyelashes. “I’m glad you came out. It was nice to finally get to know you,” he grabbed your hand from his back and held it as he sat up.  
  “What do you mean?” you were used to boys teasing you when you were younger. You were usually too rough, not very graceful, saying things out loud that sounded smarter in your head.  
  “When you’re working, you’re all business,” he mumbled. “Your hair is up and it’s ‘yes, sir’ and ‘yes, ma’am’ and calculated chaos,” his words slurred a bit more. “I see you here and you’re swearing like one of us. You’re fiery, weird, free-spirited, and down for anything,” his hands moved to your face. His eyelids seemed surprisingly heavy. “You’re one surprising woman,” he added.  
  You felt him close in and gave his hand a firm squeeze. Your first kiss was not going to be a drunk one. “Sleep this one off, Dameron,” told him softly as you turned away to nap on the way back.

* * *

  Once you landed, most people were alright with getting to their quarters in groups. You and Poe made your way to the apartment you shared. Hot and sticky from the drinking and the humidity, you got into the refresher and stripped down to your undergarments—sport tank top and shorts. Too lazy, you skipped the shower and managed to wash your face. You shuffled back into the living room while brushing your teeth to find Poe was spread out on his bed and passed out. He was a groaning, drunk mess in his unbuttoned pants, shirtless and barefoot. Adorable for a tough guy, you think to yourself and get yourself to bed.


	3. Starving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whatta night... and whatta roomie.
> 
> Starving by Hailee Steinfeld, Grey, ft Zedd

               A throbbing headache and the smell of coffee woke you. You rolled onto your stomach; it felt like everything you drank last night wanted to come up. BB-8 rolled over to the side of your bed and tilted his sensor towards you.

                “Hey, Beebs,” you greeted the droid, “I feel like death.”

                He sounded sorry, beeped something to the effect of Poe feeling the same way. You heard the distinct sound of a coffee mug set down on the desk. You peeked over the sheets. Thick, black hair almost standing straight up and a day’s worth of stubble, Poe still looked like an alpha.

                “BB-8,” he groaned and walked towards the refresher, “let the woman sleep.” The droid perked up and rolled away from you silently.

                “Hey,” you peeped in a whisper.

                “Sorry for waking you,” he changed trajectory for the edge of your bed, “you sleep okay?” His pajama bottoms hung from his waist, accentuating the furrows of his hips. He made the standard issue pajama bottoms look like they belonged to a senator. He made everything look good. You almost disliked yourself for how enamored you were with him, but you were slowly coming to terms with having a small crush on him-- just to pass the time you kept telling yourself.

                “Yeah, but right now I think I just need a cup of coffee and a stack of pancakes to soak up all of my sins,” your voice was raspy from cheering for your Vessel Run team last night.

                “I was just gonna run under the water and look somewhat presentable for breakfast.”

                “Same, I’ll get in after you,” you struggle to get the words past your lips. The mattress beneath you feels like it's spinning and your eyes are still heavy. Everything is aching and you swear to yourself you’ll never do this again.

* * *

                 Poe ruffled a towel through his hair and over his dewy body. “All yours,” he pointed back to the refresher, flexing his bicep.

                “Thanks,” you rub the dust out of your eyes to hide your bashful face after taking in the sight of your handsome, shirtless roommate. Your vision was clearer, clear enough to see the veins in his hands and the muscly cuts along his forearms. 

                You get undressed and flip the refresher on. The warm water gently streams through your hair and over your body. You lather up with a bar of soap laced with coarse, earthy spices. The scent and steamy air remedies the dull pain at the sides of your head. After rinsing, you dry your body with a fresh towel and throw on the under garments and pants you brought in. You dart out to living room and pull on a sweater.

                “You’re good?” Poe asks while he’s giving BB-8 a detailing job. His hands delicately buff a few scuffs out of the droid's ball body.

                “Yeah, I’m good,” as reply as you finish wringing out your hair.

                “Great, because I’m starving."

* * *

                Snap greeted you with a warm hug, “You guys hungry?”

                A smattering of pilots and personnel were spread over two tables. They looked like kriff. It looked like Snap took a pan of pancakes straight off the dining line to the table. Larana was not perky and bubbly, Corra could barely syrup her pancakes.

                “Maker knows I am,” you say through a sleepy smile. Poe beelined past Snap, just giving him a firm pat on the back as he passed. Snap nodded at him and fixed you a serving of pancakes and coffee.

                “Did you sleep alright? How are you feeling?”

                “Good. Good,” your tired eyes say otherwise, “just need to get moving and a cup of that sweet, black Corellian nectar."

                “Hey, just take it easy for the morning, champ,” Snap was referring to the three win streak Larana, Missael, Corra, and you clinched last night. “By the way, sugar and blue milk are on the counter,” Snap pointed to the wall behind you. You thanked him even though you drank your coffee black.

                You turn to find Poe sitting alone at a smaller table, saying your good mornings as you make your way over.

                “I figured it was no use trying to find space over there,” he says, cheeking a forkload of pancakes and cutting another slice.

                “Good call, Dameron,” you say while drowning your breakfast in syrup. Pancakes were just so simple and exactly what you wanted after a late night.

                “You know, Poe is fine right?” he locked eyes with you and sawed his breakfast meat into strips.

                “Okay, _Poe_ ,” you folded over pancake in your hands and took a big bite.

                “Maker, you’re a weirdo. You really don’t care sometimes,” the corners of his eyes wrinkle as Poe gets a laugh out of the way you devour the starchy, spongy disc.

                “The elegance I lack here, I make up for in my work.”

                A few moments pass as the two of you get through half of breakfast. You find yourself staring at his face, his cheeks hollowing to cool his coffee. No one had ever captured your attention like Poe had. He had a beautiful mind, a good heart, and looks to match.

                “By the way, did Pava tell you anything?” Poe says breaking the silence.

                You hum, trying to formulate something smart in response to no avail. “Well, she was happy some of us were able to hang out. Saying you guys give us such a hard time some days. It was nice to show us a good time.”

                “Oh yeah?” he dove right back into his pancakes

                “She also warned me you were a handsy dancer,” you timed your lie as he was swallowing.

                Poe threw his head back in response and laughed, “That girl is full of kriff sometimes.”

                “You’re right, that’s a lie. Truth though—you are not a bad dancer.”

                “You aren’t either,” he replied before he winked while he took another sip from his coffee mug.


	4. Sugar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Weren't we going to gossip or something?
> 
> Been listening to a lot of Terror Jr... Sugar, in fact.

                “Are we almost there?” you asked between taking knee-high steps in the thick grass.

                “Almost!” Pava yelled back at you, “I remember this tree.”

                “Oh my Maker! All the trees look the same,” Lara tossed her head back, she let out a tired moan.

                “Guys, it’s totally worth it. We need this if we are going to keep snacking our evenings away together,” Corra was always finding ways to sneak in activities to counteract the sweets she was sneaking in.

                After a good amount of exacerbated breaths and grumbles, a few minutes passed. At least your boots had a nice patina on them at this point. Some stone scrapes and water stains gave them a lot more character.

                “We’re here!” Jess hollered from some ways ahead. The sound of burbling water grew louder with every step. The air took on a more mineral scent. As you made your way over the last muddy crest, there sat a small, bubbling spring, filled with clear, aqua-blue water.

                Jess already took out a few canisters of water and juice by the time you got there. Corra was already standing in the spring, she couldn’t wait to get her shirt off before getting in.

                “This place is beautiful! Who knows about this?” Lara asked as she pulled her hair up. You were tugging your boots off and undressing. The spring looked inviting and you could not wait to unwind after your crazy day at work.

                “Rompala Spring? A few of the pilots, not a ton of people really,” Jess said with a smile. She took off her top and trousers to join Corra.

                “Oooh! Secret hot spring! Fancy!” Lara wiggled into the spring next. You set your clothes and boots in a neat pile and followed suit.

                “How was your guys’ day?” Jess asked as she stretched her shoulders.

                “Was good, no cancellations,” Lara adjusted her bathing suit around her breasts.

                “Yeah, just chill,” Corra confirmed. The candy-scented bubbles teased your back and you eventually dipped nose-deep into the water.

                “Oh, you know who I saw at the front desk though?” Lara interjected.

                “Poe Dameron?!” Jess was insinuating something in the tone of his voice.

                Lara clapped her hands together, “Yes!” Her eyes shut together tightly as she giggled into her hands, “How did you know?”

                “He said something about needing to go for getting things straightened up at med for the new recruits. Inoculations, first aid, physicals.”

                “Oh, shoot. That meeting is later on tonight, huh? The meeting for orientation,”  Corra wrinkled her forehead and searched with her mind’s eye to remember correctly. All of a sudden two X-wings screamed over the cover of the trees. All but Jess jumped at the sound. You popped out of the water to see them dart away.

                “Yeap, gets a little loud out here, too,” Jess’s face forms into a cringe, “Sorry.”

                “No 'sorry's. This is really cool. I’ve never seen an x-wing flyover like that!” you say with an ear-to-ear grin.

                Lara reached back for a stack of crackers and an exotic-looking jar of nut butter, “So after this, we’re going straight to that meeting then?”

                “I guess so,” Jess responded as she popped a few berries in her mouth. “Anyways, Poe Dameron. How’s he for a roommate, (Y/N)?”

                “He’s cool,” you dipped a cracker in the nut butter. “I mean we never really spent time together until last night,” you took a bite after you finished your sentence.

                “Oh yeah? How was that?” at the rate Jess was going, she would be one-fifth berries by weight at the end of the night.

                “It was fun. He’s nice, but I'm sure he's like that with everyone,” you shrugged.

                “You know, he asked about you today at work,” Jess was chucking spoiled fruit into the woods.

                “Oh yeah, I looked like kriff this morning.”

                “I told him we’d be hanging out tonight is all,” Jess passed the pink-purple berries to Corra in exchange for a container of baby vegetables. “You like spending time with him?”

                “I guess. Like I said, he’s really nice…,“ you hesitate. Reluctantly, you decide its time to tell your closest friends the truth, “and really cute.”

                “She said it!” Lara can't contain her excitement, “(Y/N) said she thinks _the_ Commander Poe Dameron is cute!” Your gut drops. Did you really have to say it out loud?

                “ _Really_ cute,” Corra emphasized. 

                “Really cute,” you try to back pedal, “like adorable. I mean I'm sure a lot of people think he’s cute.”

                “Duh, but what if he thought you were cute, too?” Jess’ tone is prodding.

* * *

                The four of you slipped onto a bench in the back of the conference room just as the meeting was about to begin. The napes of your necks and hair were still damp and creating wet spots along the collars of your shirts. Jess decided against joining the starfighters on the opposite side; it would have made a scene. 

                From your right, Jess gave you a sharp elbow to your ribcage and pointed across her body. You stretched you back out and steal a glance in that direction. Poe Dameron.  Kriffing Poe Dameron. The crown jewel of the Resistance was standing at attention. Your stomach, still very full of snacks, tripped over itself. His jaw clenched and eyes tightened as he digested every word of the presentation.

                “All of the schedules during on-boarding week have been uploaded to your tablets,” one admiral added. “Green Team is covering health and safety precautions. Gold Team is covering first aid and evacuation.”

                Lara leaned in, “(Y/N), I hope you’re in charge with mouth-to-mouth.”

                You reached back to pinch her bottom and gave her a wink. She was always the one to talk, but you were a firm believer in “actions speak louder than words”.

                After a morning session with the medical teams, the recruits were scheduled start their intensive flight training.

                “You can always come by for flight drills after dinner,” whispered Jess, “if you want.” Your eyes widened and you nodded yes. You looked past Jess and admired Poe’s face from across the room. His hair was freshly cut and set into place. He was definitely ready to make a good impression at orientation. The light from the projection ahead accentuated the contours of his face. He lowered his eyes to the side until he met yours. Immediately, he turned his attention back to the screen, as if he knew he was caught. He ran his tongue along his lower lip and picked his calluses. Your gaze remained true, but refocused on the wall behind him, just to play it off with a bit more subtlety.

                “Thank you all for coming. Get a good night’s rest. Report back here in the morning,” the admiral said in closing to dismiss the meeting. 

                The round of applause swelled and turned into a rumble of conversations. Your girlfriends and you grabbed your bags of soaked bathing suits and snack containers and headed for the doorway.

                “I'm just gonna be cool and act like I didn’t see him,” you told them under your breath. They insisted it wasn't a big deal and to take it easy. Jess and you gave Lara and Corra quick hugs before they headed to their quarters.

                “Running my first flight clinic tomorrow. Kinda nervous,” Jess admitted as the two of you hurried home in the temperate wind.

                “I’m sure you’ll be fine,” you reassured her, “I’m doing my first ever first aid seminar tomorrow morning.”

                “Nervous? Ready?”

                “I flipped through the training manual during work today, so it’s pretty fresh.”

                “Yeah, I gave my x-wing a one hundred fifty point inspection, just to review how everything worked. I’m always checking up on her, but I just did the full gamut.”

                “Crazy, huh? Running orientation sessions now?”

                “I know,” Jess agreed as she stretched through her waist while she walked. The two of you made small talk about the fresh air and how nice the weather was. You both were homesick and talked about all of the places and people you missed. Being stationed in a classified location didn't make any of this easier. Before you knew it, you were in the common area of the pilots' quarters.

                “I'm on the left here,” she gestured and gave you a hug. “See you in the morning.” You waved goodbye and continued home.

                You set your bag down next to your bed and got showered. The smell of sweet spring water filled the room. After getting dressed for bed, you laid out your clothes for the next day.

                The airlock unengaged and BB-8 rolled into the room, Poe filed in shortly after. Your hands were twisted in locks of hair, finishing a braid so you wouldn't have to do it in the morning.

                “Rompala Spring, huh?”

                “The smell is still on me?” your forehead wrinkled in embarrassment.

                “Yeah, but no big deal. Smells great, right?”

                “You know about the spring?”

                “You're talking to the guy that told Jess,” he chuckled while unbuckling his pants and pulling off his tan, grease-stained tunic and walked into the refresher. 


	5. Go! (Smut City)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by Goooo by TNGHT-- because my headcannon Poe would be down for it.
> 
> Next stop... Smut City?

                 For an alarm clock, BB-8 was quite cute. He urged you to get out of bed; today was MedEd and you were teaching basic life support in two hours. You had to get up and out with Poe to make it on time. Not caring if Poe saw, you began undressing on the way to the refresher. You weren’t going to be late. Poe was already dressed in his operations uniform and fixing his hair into a soft part. His muted green jacket hung on the desk chair. You stumbled into the refresher with half-opened eyes and got lathered up.

                “Hey,” Poe knocked on the doorframe, “I’m coming in. I need something in there.”

                “Whatever,” you hollered over the dripping water.

                The moment Poe started shuffling around was the moment you realized you did nothing to tuck away your worn undergarments. They were a mess after your mind wandered while he showered last night. You remembered the way his lips felt against your hair that night at the cantina. You could only imagine the way his lips would feel against your ear, his teeth nipping at your ear lobe. You ached for him to inhale sharply against your skin, sending shivers throughout your body.

                Your mind spiraled into a frenzy thinking about how he might sound or how much tighter he might hold you if you let him have you. You wondered how his breaths would feel against your own lips and how he kissed. You fantasized about having him all to yourself, his fingers tracing along the curves of your torso and thighs. Your body craved the feeling of his rough palms against your smooth breasts and wanting core.  You needed to feel the weight of his lean body over you, controlling you. You wanted the feeling of Poe wanting you. His mouth was making a trail from the contours of your neck to your collarbone. His hands firmly cupped your breasts and massaged them at a steady, deliberate rhythm. He took each nipple between his teeth to tease you painfully, one after another before he slammed his hands down on the crest of your hips to keep you in place. He continued to trace a path with his teeth and tongue to your wet center in your mind’s eye.

                Your hands coaxed him through the thick, black waves of his hair. You decided Poe would be the type to make you wait in both agony and bliss-- just to hear you lose your breath as he gently bit and teased your inner thighs. He knew exactly how to use that mouth, his stubble, his fingers you assumed. Poe tortured you as he parted your slit with one finger checking your wetness.  You imagined his stubbled cheeks curl into a grin as he marveled in your tightness. His mouth pressed into a hum, an expression of his satisfaction before he slid his tongue on you pulsing clit. Squirming beneath him, you imagined him sucking your mound hard to keep you in place. He continued to ease his finger further and further into your smooth, slick entrance. Your hands gently massaged your clit and breasts until a rush of ecstasy surged through your body before you drifted to sleep.

* * *

                 You toweled off and put on the medical operations uniform you set out the night before. Your hair was pulled into a tight, high bun. The small braids you set last night ran through it randomly.

                Poe ripped open a ration and popped a portion of it in his mouth before he handed it to you. The two of you briskly walked into the corridor, “It’s gonna be a long morning. You’re gonna need it.”

                “Good morning?” you stammered. You started to doubt that you would survive the day.  

                “Good morning, yourself. Lookin’ official, Dr. (L/N), “ Poe nodded with a wink and smile. Once he saw Dr. Ando and Lara waiting the ground transport outside he waved them down. His walk turned into a jog. The two of you piled in behind them.

                “Good morning, Commander. Sup, girl,” Lara greeted you with a toothy grin.

                “Good morning, Dr. Ando. Lara,” you piped up over the hum of the engine.

                “Morning, you two. Looks like you guys had something for breakfast,” Dr. Ando concluded.

                “Well, barely,” you say, checking on how your hair was holding up as Dr. Ando steered the transport in the damp morning air.

                “Her first ration,” Poe says between breaking pieces off the ration still in your hands.

                “Poe, I don’t know if I should be eating this before a full day.”

                “Don’t come crying to me if there aren’t any breakfast buns in the control room,” Poe insists.

                “Fine,” you concede as you snap off a piece and begin nibbling on the saddest breakfast you’ve ever had.

* * *

 

                The four of you spilled onto the airfield from the parked ground transport. You met up with the rest of your team and began bundling medical supplies that came in with the rookies.  Poe quickly walked past you; his familiar hand grazed a little too long against the small of your back. Your stomach dropped in response and beads of sweat were forming on your forehead and under your arms. He was headed towards the front of the conference room. General Organa was making her opening remarks to the dozen new pilots that took up the first two rows. You couldn't hear anything though the glass paneling, but you could see that smile and sense his energy. He could've caused an epidemic of enthusiasm if that was a disease.

                Boxes of water, first aid packs, resuscitation masks, and other medical necessities were bagged together and placed against the wall in no time. The dining department was not ready for such a sizable shipment, so you pitched in to sort and inventory outside before your session started.

                Your eyes glanced over the pallets of baking mixes, shelf-stable milk, sacks of grains and produce. Between counting and loading supplies, you daydreamed about making a breakfast tart with nuts and dried fruit and fresh coffee. The memories rushed back and brought a smile along with them; you missed roasting your coffee beans and taste testing your brews with your roommates in the medical academy. You longed for nights of fun, card games, and trips to the diner. It seemed like years ago that a handful of you were camping in the library making coffee cup fences around whoever fell asleep first. It felt like a dream, but it was once your reality. Honestly, the recruits in the conference room would be feeling the way you did soon enough. Your heart grew heavy as your stood there, paralyzed in sadness.

                Dr. Ando interfered with your line of sight, “Hey, (L/N). You’re in there next!”

                “Of course, I’m on my way,” you came back into your body and dropped everything. Grabbing your demonstration props, you headed for the conference room. You entered while the Green Team’s administrator was finishing up recall appointments for occupational exposures. Poe made eye contact with you from the front of the room. He looked at you with bright, happy eyes and a gentle smile through his pressed lips.

                “Thanks, Khastro,” Poe continued, “Now, we’ll have a session on basic life support and first aid with Dr. (L/N). She’s been an invaluable addition to the Resistance for the past month after completing her studies at Bar’leth. Please give a warm welcome to Dr. (L/N).” The meager applause was just enough to make a moment for you to straighten your uniform for the last time and get up there.

                “Good morning, recruits,” you opened with a sincere grin plastered on your face. “First, I want to thank you all for dedicating your lives to fighting for the Resistance. The training you will be receiving is some of the most challenging in the galaxy, but by far the most rewarding.” Thank the Maker General Organa and Commander Dameron opened for you. Poe had the words and the talent needed to inspire the trainees.  You hoped you sounded half as smart and not like a load of kriff.

                You reviewed checking vital signs and steps to take before administering mouth-to-mouth. You diligently worked your way through the manual that was distributed in the on-boarding data bundle. You ended of the session without any major errors— just two instances of Poe looking at you from the back of the room, innocently enticing you by gnawing on his bottom lip.

                “We’ll meet at a quarter after the hour to start ground evacuation drills with Blue Squadron for the rest of this morning,” you say in closing, “Thank you for your attention and we’ll see you out there soon!”

                The recruits grabbed their medical supplies from Dr. Ando before they got to the airfield. Poe approached you with a cup of coffee and a piece of fruit.

                “Thought you’d want this after the kriff breakfast I offered you this morning,” Poe confessed and leaned in to look you in the eyes. A curl of his hair was falling out of place and his face was bitten rosy from running around outside.

                “No, no. It’s alright. It comes with the territory, really,” you insist and take your breakfast from his hands, “But thank you, this is great. You’re really sweet.” You give him a smile and flutter your eyelashes. Hopefully the signals are coming in loud and clear, you think to yourself. You take a piping hot swig of coffee. “What else are you doing today?”

                “The evac drill session, some physical training. Then a lot of flight stuff,” he says with his hands clasped behind his back, his chest rising and falling with his breath. Poe Dameron is one dapper man, you tell yourself. “What about you?”

                “Oh, me? Well…,” you hesitate, Poe’s eyelashes taunted you as you struggled to piece your words together. He smiled through the side of his mouth as you tried to regain control of yours. “You know… The lab has some samples to run after doing medical recon on the rookies. So, I’ll be there for the better part of the day.”

                “Sounds good,” he says patting you on the shoulder. “Will you be home early then?”

                “Don’t know yet,” you say as he follows to the stairs and onto the tarmac.

* * *

                  The boom of the x-wing engines rumbled through your chest. Jess took your hand and led you just inside a hangar packed with ships and transports going through inspection. She hoisted herself onto a cargo box and you did the same with a little help.

                “Go! Get aggressive!” Poe’s familiar, firm voice strained over the screaming x-wings above.

                “Nice view?” Jess asked.

                You nodded in response and looked around to find Poe in his flight suit standing outside over a portable command center. His arms were crossed under his pecs. He gnawed at his lips as he analyzed the display in front of him. He looked up into the sky and scratched his neck. “Alright, Theta-One, I wanna see you pitch it hard and fast.” He nodded in approval as the x-wing went virtually vertical instantaneously. Another x-wing made a low pass into a full inversion, “Tighter barrel rolls, Theta-Three.”

                “You like that?” Jess gave you a few nudges and a smirk.

                “I like this a lot,” you blush, “a lot.”

                “I knew you would,” the corner of Jess’ eyes tighten in excitement. “You know?,” she paused, “Poe is like the older brother I never had. We talk—a lot. Then he told me the day after you moved in that he thought you were interesting and…”

                “Interesting, huh?” you interject pulling your knees into your chest.

                “Yeah, he said you were a little weird, but in a cute, quirky way.  Like a mechanic, but for the body. His words not mine,” she admitted, “I mean, he seemed genuinely interested.”

                “So you think I should ask him to hang out again?”

                “Wouldn’t hurt, right? He asked you to come out first.”

                “I mean I’m sure he does that with everyone,” you say with a hefty sigh, “but, we’ll see if I do anything.”

                “Yeah, you think about it,” Jess popped off the cargo box and straightened the tubing of her flight suit, “but I think you know what to do. I gotta get to the recruits.” She skipped into a jog towards three x-wings that just touched down and waved at Poe. You turned your attention back to the air. The sky was a hazy red-orange. The sun passed through the low-lying clouds, giving them a deep blue lining. A handful of x-wings ripped through the sky. Three took on a V-formation along the horizon until they were almost out of your field of view. Suddenly, the flanking crafts banked and peeled away. The x-wing in the center inverted backwards at the same time.

                “I saw that. Excellent! Let's get consistent, folks,” Poe clapped his hands before another x-wing tore through the sky from behind, disappearing into a speck in the distance. It must have taken a hard right since the same craft was coming into view, but on its side this time. The x-wing was passing so close you could make out some of the details of the landing gears.

                “Nice one, Tau-Six,” he studied the display for a final time, “You guys are doing really well. When you’re done playing around, let’s bring ‘em in. Remember, tomorrow we start scrimmaging. ” He hung up the headset and unzipped with flight suit. He twisted his torso and bent side-to-side before he helped the crew pack gear up.  His tight shoulders twisted under the soft shirt. He ran his hand through his hair before he looked over his shoulder in your direction. A look of surprise gently took over his face. Shrugging in place, you bit your lip and opened your eyes wide. Poe waved at you and motioned for you to give him a moment and you nodded with exaggeration.

                Exhaust and the humidity made the air thick and balmy. The smell of fuel and dirt that you recognized on Poe’s clothes encircled you as you paced around the open space of the hangar. The buzzing welding torches and whirling air guns littered the air. Standing next to a red-trimmed silver x-wing, you were in awe of the massive size of the thing. You always held the Starfighters in the deepest regard but this was something else. Your eyes ate up every circuit and switch. Beneath the craft, you studied the scrapes and pits that peppered its underside.

                “Hey, doc! Did you want to take a look?” a mechanic asked as he approached from behind.

                “No, but thanks,” you turn and shake your head, “but I have a question.”

                “What’s that?” he said while he raised his eyebrows under his goggles.

                “What are you using to modulate the laser cannon’s peak power?”

                “Well, the pilot can set it the time it takes to get hot, refractory periods for the charge, or change the current in the mechanism that creates the laser,” he continues as you stand still in thought, processing his words about scatter, interference, and low-level energies.

                “Is there anything I can read to learn more about this?” your voice was soaked in curiosity.

                “Of course, I can upload the mechanics manual to your tablet if you’d like,” he offered. You nodded and thanked him before a familiar shape came jogging towards you.

                “Hey, Dylon! Is this woman giving you a hard time?” Poe nudged the mechanic while he bit his lip and gave you a flirtatious nod.

                “This one? Why?” Dylon looked confused, “No.”

                “Alright, cool,” he crossed his arms and bumped you, causing you to stumble a bit. 

                “You need anything, Commander?” Dylon asked before he left.

                “Nah, the trainees got it,” he said as pulled Dylon in for a hug and waved him goodbye. “Get outta here, buddy. You work too hard,” he joked. “Now, let’s get you home,” he looked down at you. You smiled with bright eyes and closed lips. Soot covered his suntanned skin.  BB-8 powered up from stand-by and followed the two of you walking to the exit where Poe’s pack sat. He slung the bag over his shoulders, “Ready to get home?”

                Home? Poe was calling that little box home—the little box that he shared with you was his home. “Your home, Commander. My place is getting a looking at,” you corrected him.

                “You’re right,” he stuffed his hands in his pockets while the two of you walked side-by-side.

* * *

                “Yeah, you don’t want to work all night,” he says while rummaging through his bag. His buddy is rolling through the open space of your living quarters, a welcome distraction to the sexual attraction building within you. Do they make droid sensors for sexual attraction?

                “You’re right. I don’t want to,” you answer, barely lifting your eyes from your work tablet, “but design issues don’t solve themselves.” BB-8 chirps in agreement as he clicks into the charging port.

                “The doctor has a point,” he says over the sputtering water in the bathroom.

You continued to measure and piece together fittings in the surgical simulator until Poe walked back out to the bedroom with a towel around his waist.

                “So,” he said, grabbing a few things from his locker, “having fun yet?” This was not the first time he walked into the bedroom with nothing but a towel on. It made you feel awkward. But from the way Poe wasn’t fishing for a shirt, you didn’t seem awkward. Nonetheless, the sight was welcome to your tired eyes.

                “Being your roommate? Working on these? I’ve been having fun…,” you say with a half-sarcastic tone.

                “You haven’t gotten up since we got home,” he asked from the refresher.

                “No, I just get into a groove and I just keep going until it’s over.”

                “A woman that has a one-track mind and won’t quit,” he said with a smirk while brushing his teeth. BB-8 responded with something that sounded like now she thinks you’re a pervert.

                “Oh, yeah. You know it. Every day,” you reply without a shred of sincerity. BB-8 expresses his conclusion that he’s living with two perverts.

                “Honestly, I’m like that, too. Working on things until they’re done and done right,” he said. His honesty changed the tone of the room. You looked up from your work. He was picking up his room in pajama bottoms, his hair slightly damp. He reclined on his bed and met your gaze. You pressed your lips together and raised your eyebrows. “You sleeping soon?” he asked as he picked at the calluses from his palms.

                “Sorry, I can move to the commons if you need the lights out.”

                “No, I was gonna keep you company,” his forehead wrinkled and let out a tired sigh.

                “You don’t have to, really… but thanks.”

                He brought his hands behind his head. The dim desk light on his body defined every muscular cut and crease of his arms and chest, awakening every desire to explore him with your lips. “Just donating my time to the cause,” he flashed that smile. The smile you’ve wanted to slap off his handsome face since the day he startled you in the dining commons.

                What was his deal? He was shirtless and dewy-skinned, with biceps and forearms that steered a T-70 through Maker knows where.

                “What’s your deal, Dameron?” you had nothing to lose and so much to learn about him.

                “What deal? I told you my deal,” he said with a laugh tinged with disbelief. The shadows cast by his muscles made your stomach flutter.

                “This deal,” you waved your hand up and down in his direction. You were going to go full throttle with the charm. “If you want to hangout more, just tell me,” you teased.

                “Oh, I’ll tell you,” his smolder was intensifying, “you bet your fine ass— I’ll tell you.” Poe’s sexual energy was enough to power an entire x-wing squadron; it made the space between your legs melt. He seemed intent on breaking through to you, something you failed to do to him at the cantina.

                “Oh, yeah?” you said, trying hard to keep it together. Here he was— the bravest, most courageous, and possibly the most foolish pilot. However in the history of all the men you’ve met, he had the bravest mouth.

                Jokingly he makes a face, thinking how to respond, pressing his lips together for exaggeration. “Yeah,” nodding his head and wrinkling his forehead.

                You took a deep breath. “So, I’m going to start speaking my truth,” you set your tablet on the desk with a sharp thud, revealing a sly smile. You urged yourself to just go. No holds barred. “Whatever your deal is, I’m interested,” you said gesturing at him and biting your lower lip. You got up from the desk chair and walked slowly towards him. Leaning against the doorframe, you looked at him with the most demure eyes you could muster—it had been a while since you had done this. “I could be professional and say that you are breaching a level of comfort that compromises our work relationship,” you slipped two fingers into the edge of your waistband, “or just not.” He adjusted and squirmed in place, his breath was shallower from the looks of his chest. “Life is just too busy right now for a relationship,” you continued, “If I’m gonna have fun, I just want fun.”

                Poe cocked his eyebrow and smirked, “What kind of fun?”

                “We’ll figure that out,” you say as you press your nose against his hair, fresh with a woody-scent. You wish him good night before you ruffle his brunette mop. You flip the desk lamp off and crawl into bed.

                “Good night, you,” his raspy voice whispered from across the apartment. You pulled the blanket over your body and quickly fell asleep. The second day of onboarding was six hours away.


End file.
